


A Supernatural Halloween

by SpankedbySpike



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Punishment, Spanking, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam pressure Dean to get to their first hunt together when their dad leaves just before Halloween and finds out the old man was at the same hunt. They get an unusual punishment to complete the eerie night’s events…</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Supernatural Halloween

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsmecoon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=itsmecoon).



> _Created as an answer to the following prompt made by  in the[Halloween Meme](http://spanking-world.livejournal.com/35471.html#t324239) at :_   
>  __  
>    
>  It's Halloween and John is away on a hunt, Dean's in charge. The boys are too old to go trick or treating, so they decide to do their first hunt without Dad, a vampire. Little do they know that this is the hunt Dad is doing too. Needless to say, Dad's pissed.

_**A Supernatural Halloween by SbS**_  
  
  
Ok, for once Dad forwent the usual warnings and request for reciting an hour long list of do’s and don’ts, I was thrilled! He would be gone for a couple of days and Halloween was right around the corner… I just have to inform Dean ( _yeah, well informed might be optimistic may be beg would be more true to the reality of my life_ ) about the sweet little Hunt I found us. 

It’s been weeks in the making, at first I overheard a simple conversation in the hallway at school. Then, with my curiosity picked, I inquired ( _big words tonight, I’m on a roll!!!)_ about it at the table most of my crew ( _well the official nerd club_ ) sits at for lunch and there was enough lore in there to fill pages of my journal, so like the good little soldier my dad doesn’t know he has ( _well the title is already taken by my big, and adult brother, thank you very much_ ) I researched, studied my options, prepared for plan A, B and even C, cleaned the tools of our trade ( _I’m not crazy after Columbine, I’m not going to use words like guns and rifle at school or anywhere else for that matter_ ) and just have to convince Dean to go to our first solo hunt!

I have mad skills, and a beautiful set of puppy eyes my brother can’t resist… So, here we are, riding the Impala, singing loud and proud some rock anthem or another, feeling like the world is finally ready for the Winchester invasion and protection. Honestly the mood was great even as we got more subdued as we approached the abandoned old house. 

We drove in front of it, parked a mile away and came back on foot, mindful of street light, and noisy neighborhoods filled with children and parents trick and treating. After all we are professionals, we know how not to involve the locals! Of course that doesn’t mean we are more lucky than others, cause we protected the innocent, don’t worry of the ever so important innocent. The problem is who’s going to protect us from a mighty upset bear, aka John Winchester, hunter extraordinaire? Yep, you guessed it, Dad was on the same freakin’ hunt, can you believe it? 

We weren’t stomping ( _contrary to what my dad would claim later_ ), we were in the bushes assessing the best entry points and the best strategy to try when a large paw grabbed me by the neck and made me squeak like a girl ( _not that I have anything against squeaky girls of course, but Dean is in his ‘let’s toughen the brat’ period so I know I’m in for some serious riling… soon_ ), flopping 6” above ground and ready to damage a shin or two with my booted feet when I realized it was my own father on the other side of the beefy arm moving me unceremoniously from our hiding point.

“Dean! Report!” Would you like this to be the first thing you hear on your first and stealthy hunt? Yep, I don’t think so! To his credit, Dean had quickly followed the action and was already standing next to me, back straight as an arrow, gaze fixed on our daddy, turned drilled sergeant, and stated some appropriate facts keeping, thankfully to himself, the most damming ones and therefore protecting my hide!

By then, dad had dropped me on my feet, still keeping an arm on my shoulder, the heavy weight clearly stating we weren’t exactly out of the wood.

“Boys! You have to thank your lucky star as I already completed the hunt and it wasn’t something for you. However, knowing you are safe and were well prepared, I’d give you credits for not fucking get killed!” ( _Yes, you heard well, he swore, like he sometimes does and of course completely forbid us to do, hate it!_ ) 

I still was holding my breath cause getting credit for good behavior still wasn’t exactly be clear of all charges. And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the other shoe to drop!

“Dean fetch me a nice switch, clean it well and be back within five minutes!” Honest to god, the man gave the order still focusing on me; sure of his power and of the fact Dean would obey. I suppose I would had too if the circumstances were reversed. I tried counting in my head but by then I was a bit light headed and concerned. I was almost grateful to Dean when he came back, under the five minute count, with a supple small branch, cleaned of all knots and leaves, in his hand. There is something to be said about Dean’ efficiency, certainly.

Dad took the proffered implement and tried it in the air, revealing in the whistling sound effect that froze my blood. _Really? He was going to hit us with that?_

“Great job son, this would do!” It was clear we didn’t have the same objectives…

“March to the Impala boys!” and as we slowly put the back packs full of supplies on our shoulders he started walking behind us and swatting our thighs and calves with the dreaded implement.

I put a little more effort in lengthening my stride, not willing to subject myself to much more of this torture but also eager to escape the humiliation in case some folks and kids were still in the streets we had to pass through. Dean had the same thought and we did manage to reach the Impala five minutes later with a clear spring in our step, so eager were we to escape the flaming impact of this easy to wield implement.

Dad was just too good with that damn piece of wood. He wasn’t hitting us hard and the angle was mostly off, but the impact was definitively fiery and leaving a strong impression behind! As Dean opened the trunk so we could drop the back packs he pushed us in, folding us at the edge and with a firm hand on my shoulder applied six of his best over my jean covered bottom. I yelped and got close to tears much faster than I thought. Barely breathing the pain in, I realized he had already moved to apply the same brand of discipline to my big brother, who, _of course_ , took it more stoically.

“I’d like to think that a well punished bottom will keep you focused on the errs of your way boys! Drive slowly home Dean, I’ll catch up with you there.”

And with that superb declaration, he turned his back to us, not the least concerned about how well we will follow his directive, but thankfully throwing the stick in the air behind a fence like it was an offending and vile object. _Why couldn’t that epiphany come a bit earlier when our butts were still safe and sound?_

My hands were on my backend already squeezing the pain away, quite aware of the fact Dean was still stoically taking it. As soon as Dad had turned the corner of the street though, I pulled the legs of my pants up to attempt to see the marks left by such a torture device. It was hard to see, so I lifted Dean’s jeans up and the thin red lines criss-crossing his calves gave me a much clearer picture of what was probably adorning mine. I suppose seeing the result of the fine work the elder Winchester could do in the spur of the moment reignited the pain in Dean’s ass because now I could see him dance from one leg to the other; the trip home was going to be a peach! The only real consolation was the fact that we knew undoubtedly that we were forgiven and the chastisement was over. _Hey, I’ll take my satisfaction anyway I can… Thank you very much!_

The End

_ Hope you like it :)      and Thank You for reading (and/or commenting) everyone                                                                                                   _


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